


I'd Say You Raised a Monster [But You Were Never There]

by amdnj



Category: Kamen Rider Gaim
Genre: Accidental Self Harm, Gen, broken character, personal family headcanons, serious absentee father issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:46:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amdnj/pseuds/amdnj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitsuzane spends Father's Day in his brother's office lamenting over how messed up his family was and how his brother tried to fill his father's shoes.</p><p>Spoilers for Gaim hinted involving Takatora</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Say You Raised a Monster [But You Were Never There]

“You’ve reached the voice mail of Kureshima –“

Hanging up the phone, he pressed his cheek against the cold top of the wooden desk, and his eyes flutter closed. Was there even a point in leaving a voice mail? When was the last time he’d ever heard that man speak to him? Could he even be considering his father at that point? A father was someone that raised you. That loved you. Biology or not. What kind of father dumped his son on his older brother in an experimental city doomed to failure? Probably the same father that had forbidden Takatora from telling him anything about his mother. The same kind of father that shoved responsibility on that at a young age, and the same kind of father that literally pretended he didn’t exist.

A laugh escapes his list, and he’s sure his new secretary – his brothers but she works for whoever pays her – is worried about the state of his sanity. Isn’t every one? Poor little broken Mitsuzane. Poor sweet little Micchy. What if they knew he’d always been rotten to the core waiting for freedom? Years of neglect do that you. Years of neglect make you want to grab control of the world. No one would abandon him again. He’d abandon them before they ever could. He’d use them, gain power, and he’d stand on top.

And maybe then, his father would look up at the son he’d forgotten. The son that would never be as good as the eldest son. The accident. The mistake. The girly little weak boy who was born too small. To weak. The boy that was overlooked.

But didn’t Takatora try playing father in his real father’s place?

Running his hands through his hair, he throws his head back and looks up at the ceiling. The chair leans all the way back.  Takatora did barely any more than his biological father didn’t he? No bring your son to work day. No parent teacher conferences that he actually ever made. Birthday cakes left for him to eat by himself. No birthday parties. Christmas morning, all by himself with a tree of presents. But the only gift that he ever wanted was for his brother to look at him with pride.

_When I was your age, I was at top of my class._

He chucked the pen on the desk into the wall with a scream. But he wasn’t Takatora. He was Mitsuzane. He wasn’t his fucking brother. And he never would be.

He would be better wouldn’t he? So much better. So much better. After all, who was playing hobo in Helheim forest? Who had lost everything? Who had been broken? “What was it like to be told that you weren’t good enough? Huh, Takatora?” The sheer malice in his voice startles him and he can see his face against the dark computer monitor.

The light angles his face in a way that makes his cheekbones more prominent. His hair falls messily against his face. Angrily, he turns the screen away from his line of sight.

It wasn’t as if Takatora had tried his best. It wasn’t as if Takatora tried to be slightly better than their father. It wasn’t like Takatora wanted to push him further to prove their father wrong. It wasn’t as if he was only an absentee because he was trying to give Mitsuzane a future. It wasn’t as if Takatora just didn’t know how to word things. Or that maybe Mitsuzane was a really shitty brother and it was hard to love a monster like him.

Maybe, Takatora really did love him. Maybe Takatora wasn’t as bad as he thought. Maybe he’d made a mistake betraying and sacrificing everybody for this fragile illusion of control and power.

Looking up from the desk that he’d put his face back on in the middle of thinking, his eyes met the only family picture that existed of their family.

Their fathers face blacked out. The mother’s face unfamiliar to him...and Takatora’s arms wrapped protectively around little Mitsuzane.

As Mitsuzane smashed the picture down, the corner of the metal frame slicing his palm, he told himself the only liquid on the table was that of his blood.

It wasn’t as if he regretted his decision. Oh no. It wasn’t as if he was crying.

“Happy fucking father’s day to me I guess…” He mumbled, resting his head next to the broken picture frame…the one that was as broken as the family it held inside.


End file.
